Hendrick van Vliet Rome Italy

Cari Amici (Dear Friends),

Inside the Vermeer exhibit that I wrote about last time, “Vermeer: il secolo d’oro dell’arte olandese” ("Vermeer: the Golden Age of Dutch Art"), was a painting by Hendrick van Vliet. He did a series of paintings of the Nieuwe Kerk (new church) in Delft in The Netherlands and oddly, I was not able to find a proper image of this particular painting online. So you are stuck with my “illegal snapshot.”

I tried to learn what I could from seeing these paintings in person, although I must admit that I had not seen most of them in books. I need to get out more! Seriously, though, I was moving slower than my friends were because I was taking time to really look at the works and make decisions for myself on how each may have been done and what, if anything I would change TODAY if I tried to copy these paintings.

At some point, my friend Anne Berit walked back to me and showed me her favorite pair of paintings. So, then I led her to a part earlier in the exhibit to this one. I told her what I enjoyed about this painting, as well as what I would change. It is a strange thing to crit a work of art when one can clearly see the skills of the artists.

But, here goes: I like the lighting on this painting. It definitely reads from left to right. The shapes are interesting and the red cape is placed well, with enough red throughout the composition to give some color harmony to the work. The people are interacting with one another and despite the hard edges everywhere (mentioned in my last blog entry), the figures are believable enough. And I love it that dogs are inside the church! And not just because they are well done and used compositionally to point to the interior of the church.

However, what first drew my attention to this painting was that the shadow on the hat of the man with the red cape is way too dark, or the other parts of his person are too light. I think the high contrast on the main figure’s head is a good idea since the eye is drawn to this first. So, in this case, I would have chosen to make PARTS of the shadows in the cape darker, but certainly the back side of the man should be darker to show that his back is away from the light. Because of this disparity, I do not see this man as three-dimensional.

But back to something positive, I really enjoy how clever the artist was to handle the parallel columns in different ways. Variety is infinitely more interesting than symmetry, although one needs the latter to emphasize the former. Can you imagine how the painting would feel if both columns were in the same light, with the same rendering of the roundness from light side to dark side?

It is brilliant that the artist left one column in full light, while the other not only had an overall shadow falling on it, but also some specific shadows that break up the light shape on the top left of the column (on the right). We do not see in the painting what would cause the shadows, but their presence creates interest that is subtle enough to not take us away from the overall impression of the painting.

The artist has done the same with the floor, breaking up the grey pavement with light shapes. The light from windows (not presented on canvas) that falls onto the lower left of the floor in the painting serve to point into the composition, as well as underline the group of figures above it, drawing attention to this corner and activity in the painting. And while one could argue that perhaps all of those lights and shadows did exist and the artist simply reproduced them, I would argue, ok, but then do not discount the artistry of the architect! Like a sculptor, a good architect studies the light of the site for which he designs and plans accordingly.

It is an interesting exercise to look at compositions and notice what shapes repeat, giving us a sense of balance and tranquility versus how the repetition is kept from becoming boring by adding subtle differences to the symmetry. If you have not tried it (lately), please do. It is by an artist’s design!

If you would like to see more of the exhibit, here is another link: http://www.essentialvermeer.com/delft/delft_today/oude_and_nieuwe.html

Happy Winter Solstice and apparently the End of the World

Vermeer Exhibition Rome Italy

Cari Amici (Dear Friends),

We went to Roma recently to see the exhibit “Vermeer: il secolo d’oro dell’arte olandese” ("Vermeer: the Golden Age of Dutch Art"), although being the multi-taskers that we all are, Vermeer was not the only reason to go to Roma (as hopefully you gathered from my recent blog posts). The exhibit was inside the Quirinale in the central part of the city and is easy to find.

I enjoyed the display. Each painting was hung on its own colored wall. There was a warm feel to the room by the variety of colors chosen and the personal attention given to each work. The artist’s name was written at the top of each wall, except Vermeer’s. His purple walls signified royalty, and like royalty, one need not be given the royal person’s name. One is expected to know these things already.

It is quite possible that I “people watch” as much as I look at the art on the walls. I was enchanted by a father who took his young son to each painting. They spoke at length about each one, longer than most people generally stand in front of a work of art. They are in the foreground of this image I secretly took of one of the Vermeer’s paintings on exhibit. (See the purple wall?) Until someone can explain how my flash-less, noiseless behavior is hurting the art or the viewers of it, I will continue to take images without permission. Most of the time, what I am interested in is not something that I will find on a postcard, or even sometimes in the catalog. And there you have it: another human behavior noted. We all justify our own actions, good or “bad.”

This painting of the girl in the red hat by Johannes Vermeer is the one that is being used on all the publicity. It is quite beautiful with a wonderful use of color and, of course, light. But I had not expected it to be so small, perhaps 8 x 6 inches? It is no surprise that the qualities that I enjoyed about the Vermeers were the soft edges, atmosphere, and the dramatically soft light.

As my friend Roberto pointed out, “The Lute Player” (shown here) is lovely because of its intimacy. The majority of the paintings in this exhibit were by contemporaries or perhaps students or followers of Vermeer. However, most were not to my taste. In general, one could appreciate the skills and technique involved. Painting is, after all, a difficult thing to do well. Besides the occasional poor drawing skills, the edges were all so sharp that I wondered if these artworks were painted in the fast drying egg tempera. When edges are consistently sharp, the viewer can have the impression that the work was a bit formulaic, not unlike a paint-by-number situation, although I am not intending to be so ugly.

I do not know art history as well as I should, I suppose, but it seems to me that the Dutch were interested in portraying their own contemporary Dutch life sooner than many other painters had moved away from mythological or religious concepts. I enjoyed how often dogs were painted into these scenes. I miss my dog Zac a lot and remember well how important these companions are in our daily lives. I was also amused by the artists who wanted us to see dogs peeing, even inside of a church!

The painting that I found myself drawn to again and again was the self-portrait of Carel Fabritius. A student of Rembrandt and tutor to Vermeer, he died at a horribly young age, in the famous Delft Explosion. Carel Fabritius died of his injuries after a gunpowder store exploded. Most of his paintings were lost as well.

This self portrait from 1650 (four years before his death) is beautifully done and we studied it for a long while. But what is up with that hat on the right side? Seriously, had it made sense and been symmetrical with the rest of the form of the hat, it would not be nearly as interesting a shape! How does one invent such joys? Also, as I commented to Roberto, the eyes do not match up as we are taught to do, but they work. However, I do not think the eyes would have worked if the shoulders did not work with them. There is a quality – je ne sais quoi – that is consistent in the body language. It is the illusive thing that we artists want to capture… the essence of the emotion in the gesture. Hmmm….

The exhibit “Vermeer: il secolo d’oro dell’arte olandese” ("Vermeer: the Golden Age of Dutch Art") continues at the Quirinale in central Rome until 20 January 2013.

Here are some lovely large images from the Vermeer exhibit, including a study that Vermeer did from a Florentine artist. It is interesting to see the changes that he made to the original: https://art4arte.wordpress.com/tag/jan-van-der-heyden/

You might also enjoy this link: http://www.alaintruong.com/tag/Carel%20Fabritius.

Buon compleanno, Roberto! Your enthusiasm is contagious and pure.

P.S. These latter images are some of the views I had while inside the Quirinale in Roma, Italy.

Bone Crypt of Friars Cappuccini Rome Italy

Cari Amici (Dear Friends),

Back in the summer of 2009, I visited Austria and wrote about the Beinhaus (The Bone House) in a Gothic church in Hallstatt.

In my recent trip to Roma, my friends and I visited the Museo Frati Cappuccini described in my last post. Once you get past all of the traditional museum stuff, you enter . . . La Cripta dei Cappuccini aka Cripta Ossario (bone crypt).

I was asked by my Austrian friend years ago not to take photos inside the Beinhaus out of respect for the dead, but that seems different from staff trying to sell postcard images, so I share with you a few snapshots I snuck of this amazing way to … honor the dead. If you can step back about the subject matter for just a moment, think abstractly, and take in the shapes, I hope you will see that there is a grace and elegance to the lace-like designs.

I find that the scientific and curious part of my brain takes over in situations like this. I am not sure that I think it is offensive to arrange bones in any manner once people are dead (or to photograph such artistic compositions). Unless, of course, you killed them. I am not convinced that we need our bodies after death. I suspect that our energy “simply” changes. In any event, I doubt we need our body parts after death and I tend to think it is more important for those that go on living to express their grief and love in a way that comforts them and acknowledges cherished memories of another. And I am not sure what the answer is to the question of how one arrives at obtaining clean bones for such cryptic compositions.

Also, I am fascinated continually by the design of our bodies. Our bones are very specific shapes even when they vary for individuality. They curve for engineering purposes and are relatively strong; yet lightweight for the tasks they have been given. I find it fascinating to see bones arranged into delicate shapes and patterns that are aesthetically lovely. I believe that those who are responsible for creating this crypt of bones did so out of a deep-felt passion and love.

Visit the Crypt in Rome, Italy:
La Cripta dei Cappuccini
Chiesa dell'Immacolata in via V. Veneto, 27
Convento dei frati cappuccini – Roma
Here is another link with a cool image of the crypt..

P.S. On a happier note, I recently successfully applied to renew my “Permesso di Soggiorno” (permission to stay in Italy for another year). This was only one step, but I now have an appointment with the Questura (Italian immigration police) in January. So, I can legally spend the holidays here and am already painting on several things and happy about it.

Convento dei frati cappuccini Rome Italy

Cari Amici (Dear Friends),

I recently went to Roma to see the Vermeer exhibit with three other friends. It was wonderful to have such a small group so that we could move more efficiently and see more things. After looking at all the art available to us in the National Gallery of Ancient Art inside the Palazzo Barberini, we walked over to Via Veneto 27. Here is the Chiesa di Santa Maria Immacolata. While the church was closed during our visit, we entered the part of the building that is the Museo Frati Cappuccini.

This museum houses items you would expect in a friar’s museum, mostly objects from the daily lives of the friar, from clothing to clocks and more. There is not a bad collection of paintings, including one from Guido Reni. The painting shown here of St. Francis in prayer was recently attributed to Caravaggio. It is not a bad painting, but like St. Francis himself, perhaps, the painting seemed a little tame to me.

This last image shows my friends and fellow artists looking at the metal whips the friars made for self-flagellation. If you think that is fun, wait until the next post. It gets better!

Basilica d S. Annunziata II Florence Italy

Cari Amici (Dear Friends),

Continuing from yesterday’s post on the Basilica della Santissima Annunziata - Firenze, Italia. here are a few more images. That last image is unusual in that I have rarely seen a gypsy out in the city after dark. This one was actually taking a nap outside the church while the two-hour Pentecostal mass was going on. It was Saturday night and I think it started quite late, 10 p.m. perhaps? Late for churchgoers and gypsies, I would have imagined.

P.S. A not-so-subtle hint: The book I wrote, “My Life as a Street Painter in Florence, Italy” makes a great gift for those who enjoy art, travel, or street life. If interested, click on the title here and you may order it from Amazon in several different countries.]

Basilica della Santissima Annunziata - Firenze, Italia

Cari Amici (Dear Friends),

Back in May, I visited again the Basilica della Santissima Annunziata - Firenze, Italia for a Pentecostal mass. Anyone who knows me well knows that the likelihood of my attending such a service on my own is quite small. However, one of my Catholic artist colleagues invited me to come hear her sing. A sucker is born every minute. Thus, I invited another and so on, but still that evening involved a charming demonstration of hara-kiri by my guest, followed by an early escape and port wine (once outside the basilica). There is only so much of “you are a giant loser who must suffer while you depend on some amazing entity to take pity on you and save your miserable life” talk that we could listen to. Perhaps if my other friend and her colleagues in the chorus had sung it instead, we might have been able to stay longer for the two-HOUR ordeal.

Ok, now that THAT is off my chest, I will admit that I rather enjoy visiting churches, especially in Italy. After all, those buildings contain much of the art in this country. This particular basilica is located on one end of the Piazza della Santissima Annunziata in Florence, Italy, and has always intrigued me. [Incidentally, this piazza hosts the two of the coolest sculpted fountains in Firenze.]

Another problem with me is editing. I like too many of the images I take. So, I decided to turn this post into a two-part goodie. Here are some images of the Basilica della Santissima Annunziata. I hope you feel what I feel when I say that this place is darker in emotion than most others. And stay tuned for more images the next time . . .

I wish a huge happy birthday to my adorable singing niece Alexis Seiler, who turns 18 years old today! Look her up on youtube.com if you like.

Olive Harvest IV Tuscany Italy Thanksgiving

Cari Amici (Dear Friends),

Today is the American holiday of giving thanks. There are enough ex-pats here in Firenze, Italia, that tonight will be my second American-style holiday meal. It kills me. I have a love-hate relationship with Thanksgiving. Of course, I enjoy the family and friends getting together part. I have had great holidays, and so-so holidays. (‘So-so’ usually means alone. As much as I enjoy being by myself, the holidays are not the best time to be scheduling that.) But the part I really have never adapted to is that no matter how much self-control I try to exhibit, I always end up eating far more than makes me feel good.

I have been sharing with you on recent posts my excursion into the countryside of Tuscany for the annual olive harvest. It was a glorious weekend that I am never likely to forget. I enjoy being outside most of the time and I must be around trees in order to keep my sanity. Some people think that is weird, but I think that NEEDING to have coffee every day is weird. To each their own . . .

But seriously, while picking olives, Viola invited us to stay for dinner with the family and other friends who were helping pick olives from the trees in Renato and Giuliana’s field. We were a decent-sized group and I never cease to be amazed when people prepare food, especially for a lot of people at once. “Volentieri” I replied! They had new oil, lots of vegetables to dunk into the oil, and then the courses began. . . oh, my. And it seemed that each new dish was more fun than the previous.

The wine flowed and the conversation at the table was lively and fun. Roberto was charmed when 10-year-old Marco asked his 90-year-old grandfather Renato where he had put his teeth and Renato said, “I keep them in the bedroom!” I am still learning Italian and also some of the slang and dialects. It was lovely to have an Italian friend with me who speaks English quite well. I missed fewer jokes that evening.

By the time the calcio (soccer) game came on the tele, we were pretty tipsy. [It was a good game to watch and the Florentine team won. I admit that I did enjoy it, especially the cheering and hugging at the table. Forza Viola! Purple is the color for the Florentine team.] However, after dinner came dessert, including the sweet liquor Vin Santo with biscotti and chocolate. Grappa followed, but this time I refrained. I was enjoying my buzz as it wuzz, thank you very much.

After helping Giuliana and Daniela wash and dry the dishes near a warm fireplace in the kitchen, I saw that Giuliana had passed around her copy of my book, “My Life as a Street Painter in Florence, Italy” for friends to see. That would never have occurred to me to do and I was touched that she thought of it. [This book makes a great gift, and, if interested, click on the title and you may order it from Amazon in several different countries.]

Today, I am sending you the last of the series of my wonderful weekend with the olive trees and the locals. We picked and gathered the olives and then loaded the cassettes into the tiny truck. The olives were moved to a shelter near the house and for good reason: It rained the next day. One cannot pick wet olives because they will start to mold before you could press them. Next time I go back, Renato said they would show me where the pressing happens, if the harvest has been completed that is. I will be returning soon… If you are hungry for more images, check out my photo album “Italian Scenics” on Facebook. Thank you so much for joining my journey and for your support and interest in my art work and the work of my maestro and friend Vasily Fedorouk.

Happy Thanksgiving.